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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29460399">Unsung Melody</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cactie/pseuds/cactie'>cactie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The X-Files</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cancer Arc, Emotional, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Mentions of Death, no one dies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:01:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,335</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29460399</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cactie/pseuds/cactie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder finds a letter addressed to him in a box of Scully’s old things.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fox Mulder/Dana Scully</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Unsung Melody</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mulder closes the attic door behind him quietly. The cardboard box labelled Dana stares at him so menacingly, he can barely take the three steps needed to reach it. He does it. He drags his feet, but he does it.</p>
<p>He takes deep breaths to stop his heart from racing, to stop his throat from clogging. To stop his eyes from watering. To stop him remembering.</p>
<p>The box has not been opened since it was sealed shut in November of 1997. It has been staring at him for the better part of three years, pressing into the back of his mind, tormenting him. He has to though. He needs to move on. He needs to be able to be happy without thinking of it.</p>
<p>He makes his decision.</p>
<p>The box had been cleared of dust when he moved his things into his new place, but had remained untouched since 1997. Unopened since 1997.</p>
<p>He runs his fingers on the creased, crackling masking tape, hoping it will peel itself open. Hoping the effort needed to even touch the box is the hardest part of what he is about to do.</p>
<p>If he repeats it, maybe it will make him feel calmer about it.</p>
<p>1997.</p>
<p>He scratches the tape off with his nails but it tears, leaving the box as it had been, closed. He tries again and again and only on the third try does the tape come off, taking the first two layers of cardboard along with it. He runs the pads of his fingers along the torn cardboard, squeezing his eyes shut and taking slow deep breaths.</p>
<p>This is so much harder than he expected.</p>
<p>The first item in the box he has no memory of ever seeing. It is an envelope, addressed to him. In her handwriting. His hands start to shake as he flips it in his hands and eases the envelope open. As expected, it tears and a shaky breath leaves his mouth. He pulls out a letter that he was unaware ever existed.</p>
<p>
  <em>May 1997</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Dear Mulder,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>As I’m writing this, my health is deteriorating rapidly so if you’re reading this, it means I didn’t make it. It means my illness has taken me and that I haven’t had the chance to tell you everything you deserve to know.</em>
</p>
<p>His eyes start to burn rapidly, his pulse quickens and he feels his fingers go numb.</p>
<p>
  <em>I— this is very hard for me to say. Write. I’ve always pictured telling you in person, not like this. Not when I’m no longer here with you. I always worried over how you’d react. So much so that I’ve left it to the very last minute. And it has only harmed. This was always supposed to be happy — well, I’d always hoped it would be happy, anyway — but I’ve gone and made it painful.</em>
</p>
<p>Mulder squeezes his eyes shut, hoping to calm his heart and stop his nose from running. He doesn’t want his tears smearing her words. Her letter. Not this one. Not if it is what he thinks it is.</p>
<p>
  <em>I figured it would be cruel to tell you like this, when I’m not here with you, but would it really be more merciful that not telling you at all? My feelings for you… they’re complicated.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>No. That’s a lie. They’re very simple. They’re just complicated for me to process.</em>
</p>
<p>Mulder wishes he’d told her about his. About the way his heart sped up every time she entered the room, every time he picked up the phone and she muttered “Mulder, it’s me,” every time she so much as raised her eyebrow at him. He wishes he’d told her about the way he loved seeing her blow that strand of hair out of her eyes. That he loved the little smile she got when he said something ridiculous and he loved the little yawns she tried to stifle on night-long stakeouts. He still does.</p>
<p>
  <em>You see, it didn’t take long for me to know you were different. At first, I just thought you were spooky. Then I met you. I thought you were incredibly intelligent. I was right. Then, my feelings started to shift. You see, within the first year that I’d worked with you, I’d started to become nervous about the idea of seeing you every day. I was so confused but— Melissa had to spell it out for me — it was not a bad nervous. It was a good nervous.</em>
</p>
<p>Mulder smiles at the shift in handwriting that Scully’s words go through in those very few, yet significant words. He can tell that she was nervous when she wrote this. That she wanted to get it right.</p>
<p>She <em>did</em> get it right. To Mulder, Scully could do no wrong. Ever.</p>
<p>
  <em>You see, I was falling in love with you. There, I said it. It’s out. Now you know. It’s too late, but at least you know. I’ve been falling in love with you — slowly but surely — since the day I met you. I just wish I’d had the guts to tell you when I was still healthy. When I was still around. When I could still show you.</em>
</p>
<p>Mulder puts the letter down. The burning behind his eyes becomes overwhelming and he is unable to stop the tears from spilling down his cheeks. He violently rakes his sleeve across his face, not wanting to spill tears on the precious words Scully had written. Words that he had so desperately wanted to hear from her.</p>
<p>At least he knows, now.</p>
<p>
  <em>I could sit here and write pages and pages about everything you do that makes my knees weak. I could sit here for the literal rest of my life trying to tell you just how in love with you I am, Mulder. I should have told you sooner. I really should have.</em>
</p>
<p>Mulder tries so hard to hold in the whimper, but it tears through his chest like a rabid animal. The emotion that had been building up finally set free. He is no longer able hold the tears back. He sobs audibly and the sound echoes through the attic, bounces off the walls and down the stairs.</p>
<p>
  <em>Mulder I don’t want you to be miserable. I want you to live a long and happy life. I want you to know that you, Mulder, are and will always be the love of my life and I can only hope that you love me, too. That being said, Mulder, I have one request.</em>
</p>
<p>He doesn’t hear the gentle footsteps over the sound of his hiccupping cries. He doesn’t hear the door creak open and footsteps getting progressively louder.</p>
<p>
  <em>I want you to be happy. I want you to find someone that makes you as happy as you have made me these past four years. I want you to live a long and fulfilling life. Please, for me.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Please, don’t forget me too soon, Mulder.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I love you,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>yours,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Dana Katherine Scully</em>
</p>
<p>He feels small hand wrap around his shoulders, then across his chest and up to stroke his cheek. He pushes the letter away from him and wraps his arms around his legs, burying his face in his knees. When he is ready, he looks up at her.</p>
<p>His eyes are bloodshot and wet, his nose runny and his face contorted with distress. His breathing is heavy and the tears are relentless. Her hands creep up his face, to the back of his head and bring it to her chest. She takes his hand and presses it to the warmth of her chest. She presses it over her heart so that he can hear the thump thump thump of her heart beat. Alive. Healthy. In love.</p>
<p>“Mulder,” she whispers, “Mulder, it’s me. I’m here, I love you”</p>
<p>She continues to whisper sweet, calming words into his ears. Continues until his loud and violent sobs are just tears falling silently down his cheeks. His and hers, too.</p>
<p>“I love you, too, Scully. Forever.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is my first time writing creatively in over 4 years (holy shit) and my first time writing for this fandom. I hope you all liked it</p></blockquote></div></div>
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